Tag: Poetry

A plea

Stop Worrying About being a friend, And being accepted as a friend, And friendships unraveling before you as a roll of ribbon, And you try to put it back together neatly and the way it was before but once unwound the ribbon doesn’t take, Doesn’t want to take, never wanted

Night Terrors

It starts with a tightness: You wake to feel your heart Coming out of your chest, As if manipulated by some unseen force– And that is what you believe, If only for a moment, As you’re sprinting down the hall, Legs caught up in bedsheets, Slowly embarrassing yourself into stopping

Anxiety

White-knuckled moments, Rapid eye movements, Too many measuring cups, Not enough trust. The list is smeared, The counter a mess, I spent too much time And I made too much fuss. Into the bowl, now, The shell breaks apart, And it’s pooling, impossible, Spoiled. If I can’t do this properly,

She (Part Four)

She held her breath To keep the fire alight, let it grow But it grew — it consumed — And she didn’t even know. She was charmed by the light, and ignored the catchfire, Tried to warm her hands in the heat of desire. Now this breath she releases —

This Will Only Help Me Move On

I used to think I could only trust myself. Anything else Was just inevitable heartbreak, Everyone else had their interests in mind, And the only eyes watching my back Were mine. Trust is such a terrible thing. It leads you into submission, Waving its rattle to distract And all in

Birds are singing, Squirrels chasing squirrels. I nod my greetings to my neighbors. And the shining sun Makes the river reflect — The world glitters around me. Heat on my back, Color reaching my cheeks. The breeze plays games With my skin, Loose strands of hair floating and falling On

She, Part Three

She is used to feeling this: Happiness is a faster heartbeat, picking up speed To match the rhythm of her anxiety– Acceptance at this irony: That is what it means to be happy. She thinks she has it all figured out, All she has to do is match the rhythm

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